Like a Phoenix
by AFlameBurnsBrightestInTheDark
Summary: With his team dead and his spirit broken, Laval Fuego is offered a choice - One that could define his entire life.
1. Chapter 1

**(Author Note: Hey Guys, first time ever publishing a story. Feedback is accepted. Who am I kidding, no one's gonna read this.)**

Chapter 1

Flashes. Pain. Fire. That was all Laval could see.

" _Guys, run! Get out!"_

Voices. Snippets of conversation. "Team... Comatose. Aura... Never wake..." Unfamiliar voices he's never heard. Was he asleep? More flashes.

" _Oh shit! Mach, watch out! It's the Fang!"_

More snippets and voices. "Found him. Uncon... Fall Forest. Multiple wounds ov... Should be dead."

" _Emi! No, - oh fuck!"_

He sat up, screaming. Where... Where was he? Was that a Doctor? Laval had so many questions, but the presumed Doctor ran off, shouting for help. Where was his arm? He was used to the wired, metallic feeling of wearing a cybernetic replacement. Where were his clothes? He hadn't remembered wearing a hospital gown. Where was his Team...? It hit him. The White Fang had rolled in a surprise ambush during an assignment to clear out a cave of Grimm in Forever Fall. They had been hurt, all of them – His right leg had been broken by an Ursa, Emi's weapon – A Polearm that turned into a high impact Rifle had been completely destroyed, Mach had a concussion and had several gashes along his chest and legs and Folly had been pounced on by a group of Beowulves.

They had barely made it out alive. Covered in injuries they made their way back to the School-Issued Bullhead. The White Fang had got there first. With the pilot dead and everyone injured, the Fang had an easy time. Emi died first, spitting in the face of the commander. He slit her throat and left her to bleed. Mach was simply shot. They took Folly and Laval though... One for torture and the other for... Other reasons. Folly was dead when he made his escape. He prayed to any God who would listen that they simply tortured her and not the second option. Him, they did torture. Water boarding, broken ribs, stabbing, electricity. By all accounts he should have been dead. He didn't know why he was alive, maybe the God was some sick fuck who enjoyed letting his creations fight, like a small child ripping the wings off a fly. The guards had gotten lax with him, so he simply beat one to death with a brick and stole the keys and his pistol. Not for combat, but in case he was caught. For himself.

He found his sword in the room next door, and after that it was simply a case of walking out of the front door. They figured no one would escape. He had crawled his way to some place far away, body broken and nearly dead, when someone had found him. That was the last thing he remembered.

"Mr Fuego, we need you to lay down, please. You have to rest."

Laval knew better than to argue with a doctor, and he complied.

* * *

It had been two weeks since the death of his team. He hadn't been to class, and hadn't been taking good care of himself. His mother had visited. That was the only time in two weeks he felt close to someone.

The funeral for his team mates was a closed casket affair. Folly was simply killed... Not what he had feared. Still, her body was being lowered into the dirt, and not his. His partner was in a casket. As were the rest of his friends, the rest of Team FLME. Headmaster Ozpin had discussed his role at Beacon, and basically told him that he was shit out of luck. He would be going home, to his mother back in Vale, and would never be a Hunter. It simply wasn't fair. Laval had been happy, but seeing his most of his close friends die in front of his face had changed him. He wasn't happy, or friendly, he just seemed to drift, not talking, eating barely anything and sleeping when he wasn't burdened by nightmares. It was a painful existence.

After the funeral, he returned to his room, and sat and slept and looked around. His sword was stabbed into the floor, something that would have normally gotten him into trouble – but in these circumstances was understood.

Then the door was knocked, and opened revealing Professor Goodwitch, one of his favourite teachers. She was... concerned at his state, his hair a mess and bags drooped under his eyes. His clothes were grimy and stubble grew on his face. He hadn't shaved in a week.

"Please, come. Professor Ozpin wishes to talk with you about your position in the School."

He wordlessly complied, following his teacher until they reached the elevator which took him to the very top of Beacon Tower. Ozpin sat at his desk, sipping whatever was in that cup of his. He wished he had a cup of something alcoholic. The headmaster gestured towards the seat that faced his desk.

"Hello Laval." Ozpin started, his face rather serious. "As you know, students at Beacon Academy operate within Teams to promote teamwork. And as you know, a student cannot attend Beacon academy alone."

Laval sighed. He knew what was about to happen.

"However, a rather interesting opportunity has opened up for you, Mr. Fuego. Two teams of students have caught my eye. I would like you to keep an eye on the both of them." He slid two heavy folders across the table, one marked RWBY and the other JNPR.

"If you accept, you will remain at the school. If you refuse... I will have no other choice."

Laval looked over the folders, scanning names, semblances weapons. He recognized a few, like Pyrrha Nikos – the winner of the Mistral Regional Tournament 4 times in a row, and Weiss Schnee, Heiress to the Schnee Dust Company. Oh fun.

Laval read them over a few more times. Was he even qualified to do this? He looked at his teacher, and uttered the first full sentence he had spoken in two weeks.

"When do I start, Sir?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – Like a Phoenix

Laval looked at himself in the mirror. Dead eyes stared back, until he rubbed them. He was rather pale, naturally and not because of recent events. Dark bags under his eyes were a new fixture to his face. He had shaved off the stubble already. He ran a comb through his thick red hair, fixing it to the best of his ability – which is to say, badly. He walked out of the bathroom, looking at his room. What had used to be filled by his teammates personal items had been boxed up and shipped back home, to help soothe the grief of families. Life was going to be different. No more being woken up by impromptu play-fights that typically went past playing. No more staying up to ridiculous hours just talking. It was... sobering. And not in a good way.

He walked over to his bed, and pulled a box from under it. His spare clothes and armour, something he had never really expected to have to dig out. He threw on the black shirt, and then the leather jacket, the red one with the white stripe running up the arms – With Kevlar seamlessly interwoven into it, for that added protection. He looked at the empty sleeve where his prosthetic would go, and rolled the sleeve up and tucked it. Next where his jeans, black with a similar white stripe on the side. He slipped his new boots on... he was going to get so many blisters.

He grabbed the new shoulder piece from the box, and affixed it over his left shoulder, strapping it over his chest. Out of all the new clothes, he was most glad about this. His old piece was dinged, and rusted in several places – This one was brand new, and almost shined. Similar to this, he strapped on his shin guards. Then came the arm. Placing it in the socket was the trickiest part, as the motion controllers had to connect with the wires that ran into his spine. It always hurt, like pouring molten gold down his back.

Soon enough it was in, and after the pain had passed, he grabbed his sword from the desk opposite his bed, locked into the scabbard by magnetic locks. He strapped it to his side – He'd always hate why people would ask him why he didn't strap it to his back, like in the movies. He'd always say the same thing – "Because I'm not an idiot." There would always be someone who would ask, always.

* * *

He skipped breakfast, preferring heading to the combat arena where he would practice with the training dummies, slashing into them for as long as he could, until the alarm he had set on his scroll fired off. It was time to introduce himself.

Ozpin had gathered the two freshman teams into the hall, at his request. It was empty, save for the ring of chairs where they all sat, and where he took his place a moment later.

"Good Morning, all. I assume Professor Ozpin has told you all why he called you here?"

Silence. Awkward, terrifying silence. The one he recognized, Schnee, spoke up.

"No, he hasn't actually. Could you elaborate?" Ah. He'd never been on the receiving end of the false sickly sweetness that could only coming from someone who had to kiss up the ass of business men all day. It made him feel tingly.

"Well, as it stands, Professor Ozpin has taken an interest in all of your efforts as a team, and as a result I have been assigned to watch over you, guide you and slap you upside the head if you do anything stupid. Name's Laval Fuego, and until two weeks ago I was a member of Team FLME."

They all looked down at that. They'd heard.

"So, introductions and a bit about yourself. I don't mean your life story. Clockwise. Go."

The one with the cape started. She was cheery.

"Ruby Rose! Leader of Team RWBY!" Not annoyingly so. "Weiss Schnee, Heiress to the Schnee Dust Corporation." Prideful. She hadn't earned that pride. "I'm Yang, Yang Xiao Long. Ruby's my sister." Seemed nice. "Blake Belladonna." She was reserved, probably more so than Schnee.

They moved onto the other team.

"The name's Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, roles off the tongue, ladies love it." He grinned. Laval liked him immediately. "Pyrrha Nikos. I'm the 4 time winner of the Mistral Regional Tournament." She was sitting close to Arc. Now, Laval was no great detective, but he could do guess work. "Nora Valkyrie! I'm the most awesome person ever, and this here is Lie Ren but call him Ren and we're together, but not together - together if you know what I mean! I like pancakes and syrup and explosions and" The one he assumed was Ren cut her off.

"Nora, stop. I'm Ren. I'm Nora's friend."

Laval smiled, but behind that was contempt for what Ozpin had given him. He'd never assumed it would be some walk in the park, but this was like trying to swim through shark infested water covered in blood.

This was going to be a long year. A very long year indeed.

He talked a bit more, about classes, worries and anything else, before dismissing them and sending them back to their dorms. But Schnee stayed behind.

"Mr Fuego." She started, smiling. "While I do find it commendable that you're here to protect us, I must ask about what Professor Ozpin has to gain from this." He looked at her, staring into her blue eyes for a few seconds before speaking. "Weiss, if I had any ideas I'd tell you. With Professor Ozpin, you never know."

She nodded at him, clearly... okay... with this answer. She then stood, and walked out the hall a moment later.

And then he stood, and left.

 **(AN: This takes place just before the Vytal Tournament, because screw trying to insert a character into all the Volumes.)**


	3. Chapter 3

Like a Phoenix – Chapter 3

Another day without breakfast. It was going to be this way until he was forced to eat. All he wanted to do was slash away at the practice dummies, using them as a substitute for his pure rage against the White Fang. He imagined the smug pricks as they killed his friends, laughing and grinning. He would kill them all, he would tear them limb from limb and no one would-

He was stopped short in his monologue by none other than Ruby Rose.

"Hey Laval! Didn't see you at breakfast!" She spoke, in a sing song voice. "Come on! Need to eat to keep up your strength." She placed a sandwich in his hands, and stood there, watching. "I... I'm not hungry." Laval rubbed the back of his neck, obviously lying. "Sure. Eat up." "And if I don't?" "You don't wanna know."

He grumbled and ate the sandwich. He would never admit it, but he was grateful that she was looking after him.

"So, me and the others were gonna go out to Vale and go shopping. You gonna come?" She asked, hands behind her back and rocking on her feet.

"No." He responded, frowning and staring her down. "I'm not the shopping type." And so, she gave him the eyes. The puppy-dog eyes. "Ha, you think that I can't resist that? Emi used to... give... that... Stop - Please! Fine! I'll come!" He relented. She giggled and stopped her stare. "Great! Catch you at six!"

* * *

And that is how Laval ended up carrying 27 bags, filled with clothes, shoes, dust, magazines and many other things.

"Ooh! Look, a coffee shop, come on Guys!" Yang shouted to the rest of the group, and they all agreed. Well, apart from Laval, who just groaned as the bags dug into the palms of his hands. They all walked in and grabbed a table, ordering within seconds. Laval was just glad to put down the damned bags, shaking his hands to get some sort of feeling back into them.

"So, that's it right? No more shopping?" He asked – Well, begged would be the more appropriate term.

"What, and lose out on a Pack Mule? Nah!" Yang laughed, before Weiss slapped her lightly on the arm. "Yang... yes, Laval, we are done for today. Mostly because I don't want you all using all of my money." She laughed, sipping her drink. Blake sat back in her chair. "What, us? Never." She smiled, laughing quietly under her breath. "Mm, thish cookie ish great!" Ruby spoke up, her mouth full of the large chocolate chip. They all laughed.

He just sat back, and watched. They reminded him of when Team FLME would go to Vale, and have fun, when they would kick back and laugh and have fun, when they would poke fun at each other and just have fun.

Fun.

Seemed like a distant concept now. Like it would never happen again. He used to be able to have fun, enjoy himself with his friends.

And another thing. Friends. They were dead.

It was at this poor point in time, when he was around other people and in no less a public place when the concept that his friends were gone finally, really hit him. Sure, he'd acknowledged the fact they were dead, but this was realising that they were gone. It was like being punched in the gut.

He dropped his cup. It was plastic, so no harm was really done. He opened his mouth to talk.

Nothing. He just couldn't. His friends were gone, and never coming back.

"Well, I'm finished, so we... Laval? You alright?" One of them asked. He just sat there, staring forward with widened eyes and mouth agape. Gone.

"Hey, he doesn't look so goo- Woah!"

He wailed. An audible representation of his grief poured out of his mouth, followed by a visual as tears poured from his eyes and he buried his head into his arms on the table, wailing and crying.

Yang moved to him first, picking his head up. "Woah! What's wrong, why're you crying?!"

"They're gone! Emi, Mach and Folly, they're dead and gone and never coming back!" He shouted, hyperventilating. "They're all dead..."

Yang wrapped him in her arms. She'd only known him for a few days, but she wasn't gonna sit there and just watch him have a breakdown.

The rest stood up. Yang shushed them, and stroked his hair, letting him cry.

"We should go back guys."

They agreed, and grabbed the bags from the ground next to the table, and they began a long and solemnly silent walk back to the Airship Station.

* * *

They had taken him into their dorm, and sat him down on the chair. He had calmed down over the couple of hours he had sat there, thinking really about the future for the first time. All of his friends were dead.

"Hey... Laval, if you need someone to talk to..." Weiss said, standing with her arms crossed next to her bed.

He stood from his seat. "Thank you for the offer, and for letting me stay here - but I need to go, back to my Dorm. Alone."

He didn't wait for a reply, leaving immediately and begin the quiet walk back to his room. It barely took 5 minutes, but it felt like 50.

He slid his key into the door, and the room opened to him. He collapsed into his bed, and looked up at the ceiling. He clicked his left thumb and middle finger together, a small flame bouncing between them. He watched it dance, before snuffing it out.

He reached into a gap in the floorboard, where he pulled out three pictures. One was of his mother, a photo taken by his father at Laval's going away party. Being from Vacuo, going to Beacon was a prestegious chance, for him and the family name. The next was when the team went out on their first mission. Mach and Emi stood together, arms slung around their necks and huge smiles ripping across their faces. Folly was next to himself - although it wasn't exactly shown, their hands were conjoined together, the start of their... He didn't want to talk about it, not now.

And the last was of him and Folly at the dance. Her eyes were glinting with tears, and he was hugging her so tight. That was the night they became official, and as Mach had said later "long time coming, idiot."

He picked that one up, tucking it into the breast of his jacket. She would stay close to his heart, forever. The rest, Laval packed back into his box - He had more, on his scroll, but they were currently still being downloaded into the new one. Thank Dust for online storage. The only reason that those were stored here, were for emergencies. If he lost his scroll, for example.

Laval took a look around their... his dorm. The place held so many memories, two years worth - He remembered the night Mach Cobalt, the 6'5 giant, had broken down crying after his father told him his grandmother had died. Or the many sleepless nights just spent talking about the coolest hunters, the coolest weapons and the scariest looking Grimm. Stories they had each told each other, about funny little excerpts from their lives - Like Emi, who had told the story about the time her father had caught her younger brother selling his shoes to kids gullible enought to believe they were the height of Atlas fashion. The times he and Folly just mouthed the words to each other, in confirmation, every single day.

Dust, he would give anything for that back.


End file.
